Would you be my boyfriend for 5 minutes?
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: A night out with the team, and an ex showing up behaving like nothing happened. Lisbon just wnat to make him regrett leaving her, and Jane seems to feel the same. It was supposed to be a game, but sometimes games go too far. petitj's plot bunny- R and R
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

So, a little somehting my mind elaborated using petitj's polt bunny from the jello forever forum ("Whould you please be my boyfriend for 5 minutes?" ). That's chapter one, I'm not sure when I'm goingto post chapter two, though, but I'm pretty sure it will be soemtime next week...

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Lisbon had always followed the rule according to which work was work and the private was the private, and mixing them was a bad idea; the fact that she followed that rule, though, didn't mean she really believed in it. With her team, the line between work and private was extremely slim, and even if she kept telling Van Pelt that they weren't allowed to talk about private business, she was the first one to not believe it – the only reason she had said that the red head, immediately regretting how she had hurt her coworker, was because she really didn't feel at easy when her father come in the discussion. Besides, there was that little fact, that her team was the closest thing she had to a family, considering that her brothers lived all 3 off state and that she didn't have a love life from… well, from the day her ex had broke her heart, leaving her for another woman. Jeff had been the perfect boyfriend until she had discovered his little affair – in their bed, the bed of her place, the place they shared. It wasn't the broken heart; the real problem was the trust. Jeff had been perfect. Jeff WAS perfect. And she trusted him. She trusted him so much to give him accesses to her sanctuary- her bedroom. She talked with him; she confessed to him things she had never said to anyone. And now she was pretty sure he hadn't listened to her half the times. If Jeff, the perfect man, had been such a failure, how could she trust other people again? How was she supposed to trust a man with her life again? No, she simply couldn't. Jeff had been the proverbial last drop, the last man in a long line of failures; if there was a lesson behind their break up, was the she and men were done, so done, very done: in a rod, over. Since the day she had run away from her apartment in the rain, back to the CBI building to close herself in her office to cry, she had decided that the only thing men were good for her was sex- and since Jeff, it wasn't like she had that much either. She was too focused on her carrier, on keeping her job and on controlling Jane in the limits of her possibilities to look for a friend with benefits. Ok, maybe her life wasn't perfect, but at least she still had the closed case drinks at Sullivan's with the team, the recently substitutes to the closed case pizza or donuts after the cholesterol got the better of Rigsby and his doctor ordered him to drop them immediately.

The door singed with the sound of the small bells as someone entered, and Lisbon was brought back to reality from her reverie just to fell like dying. Her green eyes remained stuck on the two silhouettes that were standing still by the door busy talking with a guy. She blinked, one, two, three times, hoping that, once opened her eyes back, he'd not be there, but there he was, better than before, better than he was when they were together. Jeff Newman, her ex, was inside her favorite bar, his arms around the waist of Sally, Manny, Jenny or whatever Blondie was called- Blondie, the girl she found that damn day in her bed, the girl he was still with, the girl he preferred to her, the girl who seemed to make him happy. Apparently, Jeff had moved on, and didn't have any particular problem in doing so, while Lisbon, on the other hand, was still frozen in time, in that particular moment, when three pairs of eyes met. Jeff Newman had broken her, and now he was going to have the satisfaction of seeing it first hand, he was going to taste the victory on his lips. Like hell she was going to allow that. Jeff Newman had already done too much of a damage, she wasn't going to allow him to destroy her further more. The fact that her life was pretty miserable didn't mean that he had to know it. She just had to let him believe she was doing fine, great actually, that she was back in the dating game, and had found a perfect and caring boyfriend and… ok, maybe what she was going to do was a brand new level of low, but man number one didn't need to know that he had destroyed her life, that he had left a mark so deep she was still six feet under, and man number two owed her too much to simply say no.

"Guys, I'll go to ask Sully the next round since the waiters seem to be so busy – she said as she left her chair at the secluded table she and her team always sat, trying to sound as ok as always, even if inside she was a bit scared of what she was going to do, also because her whole plan could only work with the aforementioned man number two's help- Jane, do you mind coming along? I'll need help with the trails"

"Is it really necessary? I'd prefer to stay here, if you don't mind, this chair is quite comfortable to belong to such a place. – he looked at Lisbon, already standing, and, elbows on the table and hands under his chin, he looked at her with his charming but yet childish smile, the one he usually reserved to his boss alone for the moments he needed something or he had done something – besides, I intended to leave. I think I already had my good share of drinks for this evening"

"C'mon Mr. Know it all, being helpful outside work will not harm you -Jane thought she was going to say something sarcastic, maybe something even a bit rude. He thought she was going to cross her arms and look at him with that annoyed expression she usually had just for him, the one she used to make when he did something stupid or childish. He so didn't wait for her to flash him a shy smile, an adorable shy smile, while biting her lips, a tender look, almost a plea in her green eyes, and a sweet and soft pinch at his forearm; if he didn't know any batter, he'd say she was seriously flirting with him – C'mon Jane, please?"

Flashing her one of his megawatt grin, under the wide eyes and open mouth of their other 3 team-members, Lisbon left in direction of Sally, the bartender, followed at close distance by Jane. As they approached the counter, Lisbon let herself fall on one of the bar stools, elbows on cold the material of the counter, and divided her attention between Jane, whom she looked at with uneasy and uncomfortable eyes, and Jeff, who she just wanted to kill. She turned towards Jane again, knowing too well that he had already seen her stealing glances at the dark haired and eyed 30 something man with the younger Barbie (his never ending grin and that way he looked at her, so terribly amused, said her so), and immediately covered her face with her palms. Did she really want to do that? Was she really so desperate to do something in that line? Was vindicating her broken heart worth her dignity? If she was going through that, he wasn't going to let her live with it… and then she noticed him walking in her direction. Ok, she could do that. She only had to take a big breath and go along with her plan- hoping that Jane wasn't going to ruin everything.

"I need you to be my boyfriend for the next five minutes" she suddenly said, looking at him, almost whispering, with a look that was screaming plea. Jane looked at her, trying to understand if she was serious or what. He had always red quite easily, not as much as he'd like to, but Lisbon wasn't quite an enigma for him, she gave away pretty much everything about her, especially with him- there weren't any longer secrets between them, honestly had always been their best policy after the first few years together, but right now he really didn't know what to do or what to say, what to believe. Lisbon asking him of all to be her fake boyfriend was quite hard to believe- she had never been too happy when they had to pose as a married or dating couple, and nowadays the role of the wife/girlfriend had been taken by the more willingly Grace. So, why now was it different? Then, he noticed whom she was stealing glances at – a black haired guy not so distant from them, who was walking in their direction in company, good company it seemed, of a blonde who was, obviously, half fake. "Please Jane, would you please be my boyfriend for the next five minutes?"

"Is it jealousy or revenge? – He whispered in her ear, getting close, too close for comfort, to the dark haired agent, without actually answered her. Lisbon remained stunned and closed her eyes as she felt his hot breath on the sensitive skin of her neck, and shivered, having to suppress a moan of pleasure, there was something about Jane's voice, that she had felt only once before, and she wondered if it was the fact that is voice was so warm and sensual when he spoke at low that made him so good at hypnotizing people – I say revenge. Barbie doesn't play with her wedding ring, it means she is already used to it, and since you are not kind of woman going after married man, I'd say her is an ex."

Lisbon closed her eyes, only, this time, it was to avoid crying. She hadn't seen the wedding ring. She didn't know they had got married. Jeff had already planned of breaking up with her. Maybe it had been a game right for the beginning. Maybe they had laughed about poor little Teresa, too focused on her work to notice small things like the fact that her boyfriend was cheating on her. Maybe he just needed a place to live. Or who knew. But this wasn't the worst. Jane had said she wasn't the kind of woman who went after married man, but right now it was like she felt. She was, after all, openly flirting with Jane, begging him to pose as her boyfriend. And he was a married man. Sure, he was married to a ghost, but Jane never felt like his marriage was over, she knew that. After all, he was the man who broke tons of hearts by saying "I'm married". The ring on his left hand was evidence enough of how he felt about other women. _His wife had been lucky_ she thought I_ bet he was a great husband. _Great, now it was time for retreat and she had made a fool of herself for nothing…

"Teresa? - She turned, stunned, to look at person who just spoke to her. She had been so taken aback by Jane she had completely forgot about the other man, about the man she had to get revenge against. She gulped as their eyes met. She couldn't believe how he was behaving. Jeff was acting like nothing happened at all between the two of them, like they were two old friends catching up after a long time apart, his voice bright and a smile pasted on his face while he was hugging her. At least Barbie had the decency to smile between her teeth, showing that not only she remembered Lisbon, but who Lisbon had been for her current husband, too. – Oh, look at you, Teresa! You are great! How have you been? It's been such a long time!" Jeff put his hands on her shoulders, and looked at her. Teresa really felt like crying now, she didn't know what to do, what to say. Here he was, the man who had ruined her love life and chance of happiness for good, behaving like what they had had been nothing! What was she supposed to answer to that, saying seeing how happy and how perfect life he had, while she was still crying over how she had left her- but not about the fact that he had actually left herself?

"Do you mind? – Jane suddenly entered in the conversation, and Lisbon shivered. What was with her and men, that she always forgot one when she was with the other? First, Jane had stolen Jeff's thunder, not it was vice versa – I'm Patrick Jane, I'm Teresa's… - he smiled a little, a smile Lisbon had never seen Jane do before, not to her, at least. She knew, though, that it was the kind of smile he used on particular occasions with women, when he wanted to win them over, when he wanted to seduce them. She wondered if his wife, Sophie and Kristina got to see him smile like that, or if the women he truly had in his heart deserved something different. Something truer - boyfriend" he ended the sentence kissing her lightly on the check, hugging her from her back; Teresa suddenly felt the need to cuddle against his chest, glad he had accepted to play along, and biting her lips again, like every time she was nervous, she let herself wander in his embrace and took his arms in her own"

"I'm Jeff Newman, nice to meet you, Mr. Jane – Jeff politely offered him and hand, but Jane refused, and preferred instead look at Teresa, pinching playfully her nose between two fingers – wait, Jane, Patrick Jane…like in the consultant, the one she couldn't stand?"

"What can I say, Jeff, opposite attracts- Lisbon's head was in the crock of the neck, and from his position he could see her eyes, and looked at her while he was talking with Jeff, mostly to be a bit polite, not really acknowledging the man's presence. Teresa smiled a bit shy again, noticing the look of deference and devotion Jane was reserving her. Now she understood why he had been able to keep his act for that long- Patrick Jane was a natural born performer- I guess you are the one I have to say thank you to. Your loss has been my happiness" Looking down at Lisbon, Jane just whispered the last few words. Without caring about anything else in the world besides the woman in his arms, he made her shot position, so that they could be face to face, and after having gently rubbed her lips with his right thumb, making her shiver once more, he slowly and uncertainly put his hands on the sides of her face, and kissed her, closing his eyes and smiling as his lips were pressed against her owns. It wasn't a forced kiss. It wasn't animal. It wasn't hurried. It wasn't one sided. It was a sweet kiss, a sweet, long kiss, where, yet, their tongues battled for a dominion they both wanted and few moans escaped their lips. It was slow but yet sensual. It was a kiss she was reciprocating, a kiss she was answering to, deepening it by forcing Jane to get closer by keeping him with her hands in his curls. _His soft as silk blonde curls… _

Suddenly, she no longer felt the ground under her feet as Jane pushed her away, a look in his cerulean eyes that was screaming he was feeling guilty. Again, for not the first time in the evening, Teresa had to close her eyes for few times to avoid crying in front of this man. "He is gone" he said uncertain and uneasy as he had been just once before with her, and she remembered the tone. He had used that tone just once before, the only time he had confessed her he had been ashamed of his breakdown. Jane was ashamed of his reaction, was feeling guilty for what he had done.

"Good. Thanks" she managed to say, just a mere whisper, faking a smile while looking everywhere but in his eyes. She regretted this, though; had she looked in his eyes, she hadn't seen him taking his wedding band back from his waistcoat pocket and put it back in place.

Again, she gulped, and Teresa felt the need to look at him in the eyes. For all she knew, that was the first time he had taken off his wedding ring; she had always wondered how he would have looked like once he had done that, and couldn't really suppress the curiosity.

As soon as she saw the lost and distant eyes, the tears almost ready to leave his orbs as the ring was back where it belonged to, she felt the need to get lost, to run away from him, from this moment, and forget everything. She just wanted to forget this evening. It wasn't for Jeff. The only reason she wanted to forget it was that Jane had kissed her- and the only emotions he was feeling were regret and guilt.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

So, a little somehting my mind elaborated using petitj's polt bunny from the jello forever forum ("Whould you please be my boyfriend for 5 minutes?" ). That's chapter one, I'm not sure when I'm goingto post chapter two, though, but I'm pretty sure it will be soemtime next week... I'm glad you liked chapter one. taht's number two for you all... and three to go!

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Jane had practically run away from Sullivan's as soon s they had parted, without adding further words about the kiss, _that wonderful, breathtaking, mind-blowing and unforgettable kiss, _and had decided to come back to his place, the apartment he rented in Sacramento. He really didn't know what he was supposed to do or think; the only thing he was quite aware of was that he didn't want to think about Lisbon: quite a futile attempt, since his mind kept showing images of said brunette. At the end, he decided he was even in no shape to drive; the mere thought of driving his beloved and beautiful blue Citroen with all the alcohol he had ingested and his mind playing games with himself, flash forwarding images of the only thing he didn't want to see wasn't even a bit good. Hell, at the end of the evening, there was just one thing Patrick Jane knew was sure: there was a battle going on, and it was a battle he was fighting with himself.

One side of himself told him it was ok to feel that way again after so long, that there was nothing wrong in enjoying a kiss, to desire to have a woman, and not any woman, in his arms again, in wishing for a second shot at love and happiness.

But the other side of himself kept remembering him that his wife and his daughter were dead, that he had lost his family because of himself, that he was no longer allowed to have emotions if not hate and anger towards the bloody serial killer and guilt towards himself, that by kissing Lisbon he was violating the memory of the ones he had killed with his own hands when he mocked the monster.

No, driving was definitely not a wise choice, not when he couldn't concentrate like that. He left out a loud grunt and corrected himself: of course he could concentrate, only, there was only one thing he kept thinking about, the only thing he wasn't supposed to think about in the first place, but, still, like in autopilot, his mind kept going always to the same place, to the same thought, to his Teresa. _No, she isn't Teresa, she is Lisbon, and she isn't mine, and the kiss was just a game, just an act. _But, still, as hard as he tried, he couldn't stop to think about Teresa, Lisbon or that breathtaking, wonderful, mind-blowing and unforgettable kiss, but he had to, period.

He didn't have to think about how happy she (they) had been while kissing. He didn't have to think about smiling lisp on his owns. He didn't have to think about the tears she tried to hide when he had rejected her…

Yeah, a walk was a wise idea. Besides, his place was just an hour or so from Sullivan's. Unfortunately, one hour later Jane realized that if he had thought that walking could help him to clear his mind he had been, obviously, wrong. In retrospective, he regretted not having taken the car, because not only in the hour or so he took him to come back home he had barely made it (considering how many cars had almost hit him), but now, come morning, he had to call a taxi to come back to Sully top retrieve his vehicle, hope to find his beloved still there, considering what a neighborhood Sully was in.

Once gotten into his bedroom, a small room with a single bed, a nightstand table and a small wardrobe, he sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by darkness, fully clothed, his hands covering his face before to go, fists closed, to rest on his knees. He knew he couldn't actually see his ring, but it was like he could, even feel it, heavy. He felt guilty, but not because he had betrayed his wife's memory. No, Patrick Jane felt guilty because he had betrayed the wonderful, amazing, sweet, caring, loving and lovely Teresa Lisbon by rejecting her when the only thing he wanted to do was take her back in his arms and keep kissing her senseless.

Of course, he also felt guilty because he felt guilty for having rejected her and not for feeling guilty for the having kissed her in the first place. Jane had, after all, imposed himself celibacy for a reason, because he didn't think he was allowed to feel anything at all again. It wasn't like he wasn't able to still have emotions, even if it was what he kept repeating to everybody, he knew he still had them. He cared about people, were the victims of their families, his father and even his brother in law, and, mostly, he cared about his surrogate family, the team. He hated criminals, were them people like he used to be, fake and pretenders who took people's trust and (ab) use it for their own sake, murders and molesters, drug dealers, and what he felt for Red John, it run so deep, it was so strong, he couldn't even start to describe it, didn't know how.

And then there was Lisbon, his beautiful, carrying, stubborn, loving and lovely, amazing and sweet Teresa, that, step by step, had convinced him that, maybe, falling in love was something that he did want to do again, he did want to have a woman in his arms again, to wish for tomorrow again, that he didn't have to live for Red John and Red John only, that he still had the chance, and the right, to hoping into tomorrow, a better and happier tomorrow. He didn't know or when, but somehow, during the last six years, he had decided to follow her advice, and that maybe (ok, not maybe, definitely) it was with her he wanted to have that hypothetical future with. The problem was that there wasn't just one hypothetical future, but a way too many, endless possibilities and roads to take, and he didn't know which one he was supposed to take.

Jane could decide to not say a word about his feelings for the brunette; in this case, he could decide to give up on revenge and choosing between staying at the team's side (ending, maybe, with looking at Lisbon getting married to a man who wasn't him) and leaving. Or maybe he could decided to not give up on revenge; in that case, his fate was either dying at the killer's hands, life in prison or death sentence, or maybe, if he was lucky, life as a fugitive.

But, maybe, he could talk to her. He could confess her his feelings and she may or may not reciprocate them. If she didn't, the previously examined hypotheses were still valuable, but if she did, the choice was one and one only: he had to let Lisbon handle things in her own way. And maybe, was it the scenario, things may even work between the two of them…

But the fact that he did have few choices didn't helped, since he still didn't know what to do; even if his mind and body were used to insomnia, he, at least, had always got at least one or two hours of sleep, but after having rejected Teresa, he hadn't sleep for even two minutes. He had kept thinking about all the possibilities, all the scenarios the whole time. He had spent the night sitting on the edge of the mattress, and somehow, at a certain point, his mind had decided on its own to go into repeat and rewind mode, showing him the outcomes again and again,; he was pretty sure what he was experiencing was what people saw while dying, the "I'm seeing flashbacks of my while life in front of my eyes" kind of thing. Only, the images he was seeing were of things he hadn't experienced yet, like in a dream, only, Jane knew he was awake.

He imagined, no, not imagined, he _saw _their dates. Cinema, opera, ballet, theatre, concerts. He saw dinners at an Italian place, a French one, few Oriental restaurants. He saw eating at his place or her home, grocery shopping together an together cooking and eating, he saw picnics in a park and feeding Teresa with strawberries, making love in a room enlightened only by the moon and the stars, cuddles and kisses on her couch while watching TV, an origami rose offered after a work related fight revealing a white gold ring with emeralds, himself on a beach with a light grey suite and Teresa walking in his direction with a simple but yet marvelous white dress, he saw themselves holding hands while sitting in the bathroom waiting for two lines to appear on a stick, he saw the team welcoming Teresa back home, two babies in their arms, a boy and a girl with blonde hair and green eyes, he saw them holding a brunette girl with blue eyes few years later, he saw the two of them getting grey together.

Almost shocked, back to reality, Jane took a big breath and looked at the ring that no longer was a promise of love. Twelve years later, when he was 29, Chloe had put that ring at his finger, and he had promised to love her until death do them apart. And death had done them apart. In the last six years, the ring had been the symbol of the promise to find the man who had murdered them and make him pay. It wasn't that he hadn't slept with a woman because he still felt the need to remain loyal to his wedding promise, it was just that he saw it as a waste of time and something that could potentially causing him to lose his focus.

But Teresa wasn't a waste of time, and now that he had acknowledged it keeping the ring on his left hand felt wrong, for the first time in six years that ring was a burden, a heavy weight.

Turned the lights on, he reached for the top drawer of the nightstand and carefully removed a single item from its inside, a medium size jeweler box, scarlet with ivy-like motives in gold, and even more carefully he inspected the two items the box contained- a long and simple yellow gold chain and a note, handwritten carefully with a black fountain pen on a cream-colored and antique looking quality paper.

**_I'm giving you this because I know that one day you'll eventually need it- it' s a promise I'm making to you, Jane. Until then, keep it and remember that I'm here for you, always, and that I'm the one who knows you. And what I know is that you, Patrick Jane, are a good man better than what you give yourself credit for. Iknow you, jane, and I know that you'll always choose life. Happy Christmas, Lisbon_**

He smiled sad as the ring found its resting place inside the chain, right on his heart. He couldn't believe that he hadn't understood what was going on between the two of them at Christmas, the first time he had read the note, and he couldn't believe he had been that stupid and blind to date Kristina Frey, _Kristina Frey_ of all, without seeing what was right before his eyes. He remembered trying to remove the ring that time, and that the mere thought felt wrong. Now, it didn't felt that way, because he knew that he was doing it for the right reason: Lisbon. No, now that he had made up his mind, chosen life, chosen love, decided to leave Red John into the team's hands, she wasn't Lisbon any longer. She was Teresa, _his Teresa, _and it was time to let her know that.

Without even bothering to change into fresh clothes, Jane left the place he had never really considered home and walked back to Sullivan's to retrieve his car. Then, next stop, he was going to the CBI, and wait for her, so that he could finally confess to Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon his undying love.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

So, a little somehting my mind elaborated using petitj's polt bunny from the jello forever forum ("Whould you please be my boyfriend for 5 minutes?" ). Glad you all liked it, it makes my day, really. chapter two had been re-submitted. apparently, FF. decided to play a little with me...

aaannd... I really don't know when I'll be able to post the nexy chapter, really. I'd like to tell you sometime next week, but I'n not sure- I work 3 days each week and then I'm shifting the tunrs, night and day, with my mother the time she spent in hopsital looking after her dad, so i'm either tired at evening because I've spent the whole day at the hospital, or i'm tired duirng teh day ebcause I've tried to sleep at the hospital ending just sleeping deprived...

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Lisbon didn't even looked at Jane when he escaped from the bar; she kept her glossy eyes firmly on the pavement, suppressing the sobs of sufferance she was feeling inside, only letting it go as she heard the doorbell, signal that he was gone. After all, Jane seeing her upset she could deal with, but Jane seeing her broken behaving like a broken hearted teenager left by the handsome, cold and heartless quarterback was too much.

No, she couldn't allow Jane to see how his behavior had affected her; she wasn't going to let him see how his guilt and regret had made her feel. And there was no way she was going to let him know she wasn't regretting what had happened between the two of them.

At the end, what had made her feel that way wasn't the kiss in itself, but the rejection: Jane had been the one to actually kiss her, but not only had she answered it, she had deepened the exchange, and not because Jeff was there, but because she wanted to. She had done what she had because she didn't need to pretend to be affected by him. She had known from a while she was feeling something for her blond curled, blue eyed, annoying consultant, long before he killed his only led to Red John to save her life, long before he trusted her with the knowledge of his breakdown, the asylum and how he knew Sophie Miller, long before he admitted what he wanted to do to the bloody killer, long before he confessed her that no matter what, he was always going to save her, always there at her side.

Only, at the time she didn't know what it exactly was, under what category it fell. She had considered empathy, she had considered physical attraction, she had considered the idea she had been too long without a man in her bed (but, then, why didn't she feel attracted to Cho or Rigsby, even if they were good looking, but just to Jane?). Hell, she had been that desperate that had been even contemplating the anthropological theory of love (the sight of a particular specimen of the opposite sex triggers a chemical reaction in the brain, that drove the subject to feel love, i.e. attraction, in order to generate offspring that, given the genetic combination of their parents, would mostly be good looking, i.e. more successful). What she had never contemplated, because, frankly, it scared her, was the thought of being in love with the man, for real. It took her his regret, his shame and his guilt to understand how deep her feelings run, and a kiss she knew she wasn't going to forget soon.

Still crying, Teresa Lisbon didn't register the whisky on the rock Sully had offered her, or Grace's hand gently rubbing her back to try to make it a bit better. No, Teresa Lisbon was oblivious to the whole word, but Patrick Jane and the tears he was making her cry.

"Put it away" as soon as Lisbon got a hold back to reality she saw the glass of iced liquor in front of her, and pushed it away. She wasn't going to drink it. And it wasn't because she didn't drink, she did, in facts, not too much, but she did. It was that she didn't want to drink for the wrong reason. One or two beers when she was out with the guys she could handle, but she wasn't going to drink herself into oblivion because she was heartbroken.

She wasn't going to drink herself away because of love. She wasn't going to be her father's daughter. He father, back then, had been so heartbroken for the loss of his beloved wife that had forgotten that his family had survived, was still there, that his children were still alive, still at his side. Her father had become a monster, and it didn't matter that sometimes, even drunk, was sorry and kept crying, or calling his wife's name, like he had done that the night he had died. He had sent the house into fire, calling for his beloved Amanda, telling her that the six of them were going to be back together again soon. Lisbon remembered when she had bran to safety her brothers, and how a fireman had stopped her when she had tried to come back inside to grab her father. She remembered the man telling her it was too late, that the house was gone, that there was no way he could survive that, and had she tried to come back inside, her brothers would have mourned her as well. She remembered thinking that, on the night of her seventeenth birthday, her father's body finally died, joining the soul he had lost 5 years prior, when he had got drunk out of loss and sufferance for the first time.

No, she wasn't going to be her father's daughter, not now, never, not like that. She was better than this, better than him.

"I had to marry him, you know? But he left me for Barbie. And I found it out because…because I found them in my…in our bed, one evening. I didn't know he got married to her. I so wasn't ready for this and for his bloody nonchalance…" she emitted a high hysterical laugh, and was glad when Grace just nodded, not praying. She wasn't ready to admit she was in that state because of Jane's rejection, even if she knew that Grace wasn't stupid and had seen everything, from the flirting to the kiss to Jane's escape. Grace had seen it and had understood what had happened; after hearing Lisbon's words she had understood the reason behind the game, even if she was sure that deep down there was more than it met the eyes. She knew that both Lisbon and Jane wanted It to be just a game, but it seemed that said game had gone too far, awakening and exposing emotions and sensations that the two of them had buried deep down in their souls.

No, Grace Van Pelt wasn't there to lecture her boss about what had happened, neither to give her advice. Not now, at least. Later on, if the boss and the consultant would still be at the same point, she was to, but not now. Right now, all Teresa Lisbon needed was someone willing to listen to her, a shoulder to rely on, to cry on, but not advice.

She didn't need advice because she knew what she was going to do. She was going to act exactly as Jeff had. She was going to behave like nothing happened, like it didn't matter. Even better: she was going to claim the kiss hadn't affected her at all. She hadn't given the satisfaction to Jeff, why should Jane be any different?


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

So, a little somehting my mind elaborated using petitj's polt bunny from the jello forever forum ("Whould you please be my boyfriend for 5 minutes?" ). Glad you all liked it, it makes my day, really.

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At half past six, Jane was already sitting on his CBI couch, hands sweating, quick heartbeat, eyes like he was high, focused on the bullpen's entrance, waiting for her to "join" him. Jane wondered about all the possible scenarios, repeated the words he thought he was going to use, and imagined the outcome. Somehow, even if Lisbon's face the evening before had been a quite clear giveaway of her feelings for him, he kept imagining possibilities he hoped wasn't going to come true: Lisbon slapping him, laughing at him, not caring at all about it, shooting at him…

"I can't believe you slept here again!"

"What?" Jane looked in front of himself like an idiot, feeling dumb for the first time in years. He hadn't seen that coming. He really hadn't seen that coming…. He hadn't thought about being caught while daydreaming by Lisbon, by crossed arms, smiling, refreshed but still annoyed Lisbon. No, it wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to not care. she had to be mad, full of passion…

"Are you all right?" he had left his position in record time, and was now standing in front of his beloved Teresa, holding her hands and looking concerned.

"You know, I think I should be the one asking you this – she laughed a little, the kind of annoyed laugh she reserved for him when he did something idiotic but yet adorable – you seem upset, Jane, are you all right?" Lisbon looked at Jane, really concerned, with a sweet undertone in her voice, her green eyes, her wonderful green eyes shining, and the only thing the man felt was pain. Jane felt like she was stabbing him. The night before she seemed hurt, heartbroken, rejected, but right now, she seemed ok…

"I thought you were upset…" he whispered, blue eyes meeting green ones. He had talked without even realizing it, and as soon s the words had left his mouth, Teresa had decided that best thing to do was avoiding eye contact. As good as she was as an actress thanks to Jane's teachings, she wasn't that good, not that good that the mentalist could actually bought her lies.

"Oh, Jane, of course I was upset – she gently said, smiling, reassuring him – Jeff and I was planning our wedding, and here he is, at my favorite spot, showing around the Barbie he cheated on me with, who happens to be his wife. Jane, I'd be worried if I'd not be upset."

The blonde felt like being stabbed again. Lisbon was, indeed, upset, but he was wrong. Jeff was the reason, and not himself. "But I thought. We kissed. You smiled. I thought. You seemed. I believed."

Teresa's idea was to keep avoiding eye-contact, but as soon s she heard his voice, his whispers, his unsure and scared tone, something snapped inside her, and she felt again like 12 years old girl who was supposed to look after her family. Jane sounded like Tommy, a scared hurt, little wild animal. She HAD to look at him, at his eyes, and when she saw the pain in them, when she saw how lost they were, no longer shining but glassy with tears, she felt her resolution weakening. _No, I've been hurt enough; I have to stick with the plan._

"Oh, you thought I was upset for the kiss! Please, Jane, friends kiss each other! It's no big deal!"

Suddenly, Jane felt like someone had removed the dagger from his chest and healed the injury. He couldn't believe he had almost bought it. She had almost had him. But now, he didn't know why, she no longer was able to lie to him, even if she was trying to. Her voice was unsure, unsteady, broken. He smiled of a pure and sincere smile.

"But you don't kiss Cho or Rigsby, just me" As she realized Jane was getting closer and closer, Lisbon moved backward, but ended hitting with her back the desk of said annoying consultant. He trapped her, his hands on each side of her body, and Teresa took a big breath, trying desperately to recompose herself.

"Didn't- she corrected him- I didn't kiss Cho or Rigsby, but just you"

"Does it mean that I'm special, Lisbon?" He grinned, satisfied, getting closer and closer again, and almost breathing on her.

"Well, I've never had the chance to kiss them, but, who knows, maybe, one day… besides, it wasn't big deal, because we are friends, and friends kiss each other sometimes. Did I tell you we are friends? Because that is what we are, friends I mean. And it was nothing." Their noses were touching each other, and Teresa, even if she had been with eyes closed or focused on the pavement, had been so aware of their vicinity that she had rumbled for the whole conversation, her face in a deep shade of red to make envy to the red VALENTINO color.

"Well, if we are friends, and friends kiss each other, there's nothing wrong in us kissing, right?"

She felt his breath on her lips. He had whispered the words on them, with semi-closed eyes. He was grinning, not his usual grin, though, and his voice, even if amused, it was sweet, unsure, caring, devote. There was only one feeling behind the emotions she felt radiating from him, and she knew the word was love. She knew because she felt the same.

"I don't know, I mean, we are at work, it'd be inappropriate, and what if someone sees us? What will they think? What will Hightower think? What if she sees us? We are at work, it will be inappropriate and unprofessional and …"

"You are so cute when you ramble!" even if he was back to his usual self, the "Annoy the hell out of Lisbon/ cat got the canary kind of person, he still was whispering. He still was whispering on her lips.

"C'mon, we are at work"!

"Nobody's here but us"

"And the janitor"

"At this time he usually is finishing putting in order the second floor. We are the fourth, it means we still have few minutes to make out - he started to gave her butterfly kisses, on her face, neck, eyes, ears, every visible inch of her skin – do you realize you just said you'd prefer to not kiss me here, but never said anything about not kissing me?" His hands found her shirt, marveling under it, investigating the soft skin beneath, tracing invisible patterns on her back, his fingerprints feeling like fire on her. Teresa couldn't resist the sweet torture any longer, closed eyes, lowly moaning, she threw her arms around his neck, her hands in his curls, keeping him firmly against her.

"Well, you are quite the kisser, Patrick" At the mention of his name, he stopped, and moved slightly so that they were face to face, green eyes into blue ones. As his gaze stopped on her, Lisbon's breath died in her throat. And again he kissed her – this time on the lips.

"I love you Teresa, and no matter what, I'll never deliberately hurt you. As long as I'll be allowed to breath, I'll always save you." He told her once they parted, looking at the spoil, still unsure of what her answer was going to be.

Smiling, she cupped his face with her hands, guiding him closer to her again. This time, Teresa decided she was going to be the one to start the kiss. The kiss was her answer – and the smile she gave him after.

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Just the epilogue and then we are done with it! hope i'll be able to update soon...


	5. Chapter 5

Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just **_"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." _**(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

Ok, so, sorry for the delay, again. But, yet, here we are, with the epilogue. thanks to everyone!

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Epilogue

Lisbon was walking back to the table of the fancy restaurant, her body hugged by the little black dress when she felt a hand grabbing her for e shoulder. With a quizzical look, she turned and saw, standing in front of her, the one and only Jeff Newman, best shape of ever, smile pasted on his lips. The man was really astonishing: was he naïve, childish, stupid or hypocrite? She had been his girlfriend, almost married him, only to call things off when she found out he was cheating on her, and every time they met, he behaved like they merely were friends at all.

But he was civil, Teresa had to admit it, and if he was civil, she couldn't make a scene. She was going to be fine and nice and civil as well, maybe a bit sarcastic if Jeff was too annoying or praying, or if he kept saying stupid things.

"Jeff, what a surprise, it's been a while!" Teresa knew too well when the "while" had been, the last time they met, again by chance. She remembered that time, at Sullivan's, the cop bar she used to go with the guys, and in that occasion she and Jane kissed for the first time, him playing the role of the boyfriend for the mere benefit of the idiot in front of her right now.

She smiled imagining Jane putting his hands on her shoulders, from the back, grinning while whispering to her that the way she was blushing, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and her posture and how she was avoiding Jeff's eyes meant she was uncomfortable. Lord, she was pending a way too much time with the man; she was picking up all his traits. Now she even had his mental processes, and the mere thought of her mind working like his own made her smile, Jeff forgotten.

"My god, Teresa, you are… you are stunning! I mean, you used to be beautiful, but look at you right now! You are… wow!" he hit her playfully on the arm, like they were playing, or, worse, flirting, and she couldn't help but find it unnerving: it was even worse than him acting like nothing happened at all.

"How's Josie?"

""She is Jackie" he corrected her, and the cop noticed that he was avoiding her eyes, clearly uncomfortable. She also noticed that, as she tried to look in the room for the aforementioned woman, his eyes immediately started to look around as well, moving where she wanted them to go, where a secluded and romantic table for two was set, a woman sitting alone. Grinning at crossed arms, she noticed satisfied that the woman wasn't Jackie, and that Jeff had started to play nervously with his wedding band. Apparently, the wolf had gotten older, but hadn't lost his old habits.

She smiled and blushed again, biting her lips, thinking about the trick she had learned from Patrick. she remembered all the times he had used it, even if he performed it in his own way (the man, was, still, a creature of the show business, after all): while she simply did it with the eyes, waiting for the guy to buy it and show her what she wanted to see, Jane's approach, coming from his old carnival and psych days, was to take the person's hands, claiming to be able to read their mind thorough the contact, while, like with her own approach, it was always the eyes to give them away.

"Am I allowed to interfere?" the moment she felt a pair of strong yet soft and warm hands pushing her back towards soft fabric and a warm and inviting chest, wonderful lips left a lingering, yet angry and promising soft kiss on the tender and too receptive skin of her neck, making her shiver in anticipation of what had yet to come.

"Jeff, you remember Patrick Jane, right?"

"Of course, how could I forget him? He was – he shook politely Jane's right hand, but still avoided his gaze, still looking, instead, at Teresa- your annoying and trouble-maker consultant, but yet you two were dating last time we talked to each other"

"Well, not any longer" Patrick's answers was playful, but, yet, as his eyes met Teresa's ones, there was tenderness and devotion, and, without them realizing it, they fingers had found each other, interlacing, like the two of them were the only ones that mattered into the whole world.

"So, I guess she finally kicked you out of the CBI"

"Oh, no, actually, I still consult for the CBI; Actually, I'm a full time employee right now. No, Jeff, the "not any longer" - he said in his usual playful tone, the one he used to make fun of criminals and suspects – referred to our dating status" Proud and happy, Jane lifted his left hand, showing off a simple white gold wedding band; somehow, though, his eyes weren't meeting Jeff's ones, but were fully focused on Teresa.

"This week it has been our first anniversary" she explained, biting her lips, looking into Jane's eyes, and playing with her own wedding band, matching perfectly his own.. Jane once told her that, often people played with their own wedding rings because they were uncomfortable, but it wasn't her case, she did it, and did it often, because the ring was her anchor to reality. Every time she touched it, she had flashes of the time they had already spent together as a couple, and knew for sure she wasn't dreaming nay of it: the cinema, the concerts, the opera, dinner at Italian, Chinese, Oriental or French restaurants; eating every meal together, grocery shopping together, holding hands; picnics with strawberries; making love with just the light of the moon outside their window; kisses and cuddles on the couch; an origami rose offered after a work related fight, revealing an antique ring with emeralds; Patrick on the beach with a light grey suit, waiting for her, dressed with a simple white wedding gown, and the week before, holding hands while sitting into their hotel room bathroom floor, in the out of town case they were following, waiting for the holy two lines to appear.

"First anniversary and first kids" he smiled happy, eyes almost teary, as he put his right on her belly; only in her sixth week, nor she shown nor her could feel them moving inside his wife, but the fact that she was HIS Teresa, and she was carrying his, their babies (he knew the doctor told them it was too early to say if they were having twins or not, but yet he was sure that she was carrying two kids, a boy and a girl with blonde hair and green eyes) was reason enough for Jane to touch and kiss her belly whenever he could.

"As I said once, your choice, your loss, your regret – he took her hand, and guided her towards their table again, without really carrying about the other man, and gave her a proper, yet quick, kiss on the lips before to sit – my luck" As she contemplated his blue yes, happy eyes full of love devotion, passion and desire for her and her only, Teresa realized that Jane may have been her fake boyfriend for five minutes, but he had been the only one for her right from the beginning, right from the first moment Minelli introduced the two of them, so many years before (and she wondered if that was the reason she had started then to date men who were the polar opposite of him). Many things had happened and changed during the eight years that had been at each other's side as coworker, friends and lovers then: they had gained Rigsby first and Van Pelt later, they had lost Bosco to death and Minelli to retirement, they had met Hightower and then her successor, Allen; they had seen Grace and Wayne getting together, breaking up, and getting together again; they had been witnesses at Cho and Elise's wedding, they had fought Red John, and witnessed, at the end, his own death at Cho's hands; they had learned to trust each other, to care for each other, they had become friends, they had fallen in love, and even gotten married and now they were waiting for at least one new life to enter into their world.

Life had changed, she, Teresa Lisbon Jane had changed, but not her husband, not her Patrick. Patrick was always going to be that shy and unsure man who just pretended to be strong and full of him, the guy who had kissed her two years before and was scared of his own feelings and didn't know how to act on them.

Yes, he was still the same, and she didn't want it any other way.


End file.
